Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of October 2-8, 2011

This week your underwear may have less holes in them and you might be asked out on a date to end your dry spell.  However, you won’t know for sure until you’ve had your fortune told by the one and only Hottywood! 

Below are Hottywood’s cookie fortunes, as revealed by the moon and the sun, in addition to the itch on the bottom of his foot.   

Take heed.  Knowledge is power.

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19 

If crap was money, you’d be rich! You’re going to be full of two things this week: Sh*t and drama.  It’s time to suit up, champ…it’s going to be a tough week. 

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

You’re going to have Athlete’s Foot in your left armpit.  The worst part is you’re going to spend the rest of the week trying to figure out how the hell this is possible. 

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20   

Your farts will take on a personality of their own, much like Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde. 

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Aries

March 21 – April 19 

All of your breakfasts will taste like strained corn chips.  Try washing your mouth out with soap or brushing your teeth for a change.   

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20 

You have something special to smile about; your deodorant hasn’t given out on you – yet.  Things are looking up.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20 

The only answer you can muster up to anyone’s question is, “Because I said so, biatch.” Watch your back. Someone’s going to whoop your ass.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22 

A blessing is headed your way in the shape of an onion loaf or possum poop. It’s going to be a good week, though a little funky.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22 

Looking at yourself in the mirror will make you realize just how allergic you are to stupid ass people.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22 

It’s time to take on the personality of someone else because no one likes who you really are right now. Either stop or start being an asshole. 

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Libra

September 23 – October 22 

If anyone asks you what that thing is on your lip, just tell them you were stung by a mutant bumble bee. Your secret’s safe with me. o_~

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21 

I would only order shrimp when eating out, if I were you.  Any other kind of meat may not be exactly what you expect it to be.  However, the food poisoning could equal some days out of work.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21   

Life would be so different if you’d have only made the right decision when you had the chance. 

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Quote of the Week:   “The worst time to have a heart attack is during a game of charades…”

 

Writing a New Chapter

For all of you who are looking forward to this week’s Hottywood’s HORRORscopes, sadly I must disappoint you with some bitter-sweet news. 

You know how business moguls get to vacation in St. Tropez and schzmuuuschz with other executives and high-banking celebrities?  Well that’s exactly what I’m doing — only different

While seeking a little much needed R&R is in order, I’m busy exploring new dreams; new visions; and dare I say, new catastrophies — to look deeper into destiny’s mossy swamps and rare flowers.   I’m delving into new adventures; new fates; and new creepy lessons to be learned. 

The mysteries of tomorrow is a blank page waiting to be seduced by a ball-point pen.  …and well, my scandal-seeking friends — we all know I aim to please! 

All for you and the sake of witty entertainment, I — with the help of some of my very talented Hottylicious friends — am busting chops to bring three little winches named Karma, Fate and Lady Luck, to a desk or laptop near you, by way of a ground-breaking series — Hottywood Helps: The Webisode! 

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For the first time ever, you’ll not only get to read about the scandals that take place in the Hills of Hottywood, you’ll get to see it for yourself.

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But don’t pack your bags just yet, kids.  We’re still getting the city ready for your grand tour.  Patience, young grasshoppers.  “Patience” is the name of this game.   

 CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFORMATION

 

Hottywood’s 1/2 Year Review of the 20 Top Pets Peeves of 2010…So Far

Earthlings, I call to your attention the underappreciated as well as the under-rated fact that we have crept our way through the first half of 2010.  Not surprisingly we have yet to fly to work in Nissan model hovercrafts or teleport our way out of a lie-gone-wrong with a mere push of a button.  

What we have been blessed to experience is the newest line of pet peeves, brought all the way to us from our very own local communities.  Men and women across the nation have managed to raise the bar when it comes to matters of diverse annoyances, laughter and awkward silence.  

If you ever wanted to smack someone in the forehead for something you thought could never bother you, hold off on that idea for a sec and check out Hottywood’s 1/2 year review of the 20 top pets peeves of 2010, so far.   You may find out you’re not the only person who’d be willing to face a misdemeanor charge for someone else’s dumb way of thinking.

Let’s begin, shall we? 

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People who beg for money at the gas station.  Getting on someone’s nerves in a vicinity where there’s a never-ending supply of flammable fluids is never a good idea. 

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When you go out with people and all they do is talk on their cell phone like you’re not even there.  There is no more appropriate moment for an “EJECT” button. 

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People who always complain.  Remind me to study a book of world languages so I’ll be sure no one can have an excuse for not understanding my one dying wish for them to shut the hell up! 

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Waking up to find a boot on your car.  Fingernail files and vaseline don’t really work.  The boot might as as well be on your foot.  Where the hell do you think you’re going with no car? 

You’d better have some good ass friends or a lot of bus tokens. 

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Hang nails.  Worst…hang nails on your toes.  Why not just get stung in your scalp by a swarm of mating bees?  It would be less painful. 

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These young guys walking around showing their dingy underwear.  Seriously, what the hell is that all about?  A wild coyote is gonna  jump out and chase their ass and they’re not going to be able to run because their pants will be tangled around their ankles. 

Not only is this a hygienic concern, there are safety matters to consider.

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People who are always right.  You know you’re wrong for that, don’t you?  The only thing they can do right is get away. 

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Uncle Bernie.  For obvious reasons. 

Underneath all that fur on his face, and the gang-related tattoos, and the wreak of alcohol, and the open wind he calls home — except on Sundays when he comes over to freeload for dinner — he’s a really good guy. 

He’s also single, ladies.

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Females who are way too desperate.  You’re single for a reason, skank. 

Ladies, don’t try this at home unless you have $.99 following your asking price. 

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Coworkers who don’t know a damn thing about computers.   Luckily for you, since creators made this thing called ‘StupidaMouse’, there’s no reason to break all your fingers with a dry-rotted mallot.  This is truly your lucky day!

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When your tank accidentally falls into a ditch.  I hate when that happens. 

“…somehow, I don’t think this will be a reasonable excuse for showing up late to work.”

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When your best friend has thrown you under the bus.   When it comes to karma and payback…

ALWAYS REMEMBER:

… it’s always better to deal with the devil you know than the devil you don’t. 

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When some stupid person gets a really stupid tattoo in the most stupid place on his/her body.  “What the hell were you thinking?”  “Who wants to see that?”  “Were you high?” 

There are a series of questions that come along with this act — beginning with a major concern for one’s self-identification.  #CooCooCooCoo

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Bad ass kids.  I don’t even think a supporting statement is needed for this one. 

We all know those little monsters when we see ’em. 

The secret is to pinch them when no one’s looking.  …so I’ve been told, of course.

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When your coworker takes a sh*t in the john just before you walk in.  This is the devil at work, himself! 

The next time you experience this catastrophic event, run for the hills with your hands waving in the air!  Save yourself!  Red Alert!  Code Red!  S.O.S!  And if you really want to get the upper hand — time their ‘movement’ schedule.  Get into the stall moments before they do, release a family of baby snapping turtles in the commode and flee the scene.  When they sit their stinky ass on the pot…

[Enter your imagination here]

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Women who won’t keep their hair done.  This is probably the first reason why all of your relationships fail.  It’s unattractive and lazy and no one in their right mind wants to be seen with you.  

And I mean that in the most sincere way…

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The mean old lady at work that everyone thinks is soooooo nice but in actuality she’s a spawn of satan.  

Give it up, grandma!  The jig is up. 

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Staff meetings.  C’mon.  Admit it.  You know you’d rather eat a rusted-nail flavored ice cream cone instead. 

How about, “wake me when it’s over,”?

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When someone has brocolli stuck in their teeth.  Though it’s incredibly humorous to see some disgusting piece of greenery hanging in between your teeth, it’s very gross. 

…no, really.  It is. 

Seriously. 

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Number (#)2 Pencils.  Because I’ve still never seen nor know the difference between numbers 1 and 3. 

Am I missing something? 

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So there you have it my peeps!  Hottywood’s top 20 pet peeves for 2010, so far.  Something about these faux pas makes my skin crawl.  And when that happens I just want to load a back-pack full of sunflower seeds and go all ‘drive-by’ on everyone. 

Listen folks, it doesn’t take that much to get your head out of your ass.  For the most part you know what’s hot and what’s not.  And if you don’t, learning the difference is easy.  Getting started is the hard part.  But the good news is 90% of any effort is getting started.   

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Quote of the week:    “Life is like a taxi. The meter just keeps a-ticking whether you are getting somewhere or just standing still.”

 

Hottywood Makes Headlines, Baby!

There comes a point in life where few of many celebrities hit it big.   How do they know when they’ve arrived?  When their names have been splattered all over the hottest gossip magazines in the country, of course!  Enter America’s newest publication, “Hottywood SCOOP!”  The magazine that just can’t get enough of the bloggisphere’s biggest celebrity sensation — Hottywood Helps

Young Hollywood has NOTHING on the hills of Hottywood. 

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You’re probably asking, “What’s the point of this post?”   Well the answer is quite simple and sits right in front of your blind ass face.  

MORAL:  Make the world your center stage.  If you don’t treat yourself like a star, no one else will.  And while you’re stepping on bad weaves and bald heads to rise to the top, don’t worry about those folks who talk about you along the way.  The worry should come into play when those very same people stop talking about you.  So if you’re going to be “IT,” be the best at it!   Don’t forget to keep a very positive “EFF YOU” attitude!  It’s guaranteed to be your 8 ball in the side pocket. 

Remember, 90% of any effort is getting started. 

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Quote of the week:   “You may want what you want when you want it, but you can’t always get what you want when you want it unless you have a really big bazooka, some maskin tape and a wad of gum.” 

Hottywood’s Reality Check

What would gossip magazine covers look like if Hottywood were in control of the columns? 

I’ll tell you one thing, there wouldn’t be any deceiving article titles.  Only the truth.  The cut-deep, cold-hearted, ugly truth.   For example:

  • I would be the very one to tell Kim and Kourtney Kardashian to stop being so damn stupid and pressed over these men that don’t want them.  Why the hell is this news-worth, anyway?  How many women get played by their men?  
  • Sarah Jessica Parker and her hubby aren’t speaking.  Big whoop.  I’d pay to have my mate shut the hell up sometimes.  But I doubt if it would make the front page of a major magazine. 
  • Jennifer Hudson’s finally getting married after being knocked up and shacking up with her baby daddy.  I have three words for this, ” The Glamorized Projects.”  Pookie and LaShawnda did the exact same thing last week. 

Yup, if I had control over the press, Hottywood’s Reality Check Magazine would be a book full of “So What’s” and “Who Cares?” 

Check out the cover page below.  It’s time we give some of these phone ass reality shows a real life reality check!

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Quote of the Week:   “Celebrities get paid to be stupid.  They also dress up to make asses out of themselves.  Us commoners do it for free.  Maybe what makes us so stupid is that we aren’t smart enough to get paid for it.” 

-I guess we could if we tried hard enough.  All it would take is a little effort.  And 90% of any effort is getting started.

A Day in the Life in the Hills of Hottywood

Misconception
 
There are many myths that lurk in the cold streets of Hottywood.  But let me tell you it’s not all the glitz and the glamour you may imagine.  It has nothing to do with sex, drugs or booze.  It’s not about money, fame, or chasing lost dreams.  Sure, there’s no denying all those things are great; they’re the perks that come with the package.  It’s about so much more; more than principle; more than revenge; even more than respect.  Because in the hills of Hottywood, you’ve got to want it all
 
The Bum Wrap
 
The day started like any other – brandy, spiked with a little coffee – iced.  A tailored pinstripe get up, accessorized with expensive shoes, and a few slices of bacon wrapped in aluminum foil to get the day going.  Afterall, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.  I got a call from Jimmy “The Fish,” asking me to meet him at the cafe on the hill – low key and under the radar.  Jimmy and I go way back.  All the way back to when tube socks with rings around the ankles were just as popular as stiffing a meter in a cab.  You couldn’t pin old Jimmy though even if you were a sumo wrestler on steroids.  He’s slippery like a fish and would rat you out for a nice shiny brick of gold.  But he doesn’t lie.  
 
I met up with him at the Banana Boat cafe.  It’s a classy dive with crappy music, but the drinks make up for the misinterpreted entertainment.  As I sipped on my Jack and coke, Jimmy confessed to me that he’d gotten mixed up with some bad guys over a small bag of ice worth more than Paris Hilton’s “That’s Hot!” phrase.  He needed me to hold the prize while he got his name off the radar.  I figured I owed him for all the jams he’s gotten me out of in the past. I generally don’t mix with the bad guys.  However sometimes you have to know some in order to determine how to play the game.  At any rate, I agreed to help out my pal.  Anything for a friend, right?  
 
Upon leaving the block of the rendezvous point with Jimmy, a long, black stretch limo pulled up in front of me.  “Mr. Hottywood, I presume.”  A husky voice traveled behind an exhale of smoke from a Cuban cigar smoking creepy old guy with dark shades, speaking from the other side of amber tinted windows. 
 
“Are you a bill collector?” I asked, sarcastically yet calm. 
 
“You can say that.” he responded. 
 
“I don’t believe I caught your name.”  This conversation was taking a risky turn and I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. 
 
“You will, Mr. Hottywood.  You will.” 
 
And with that reply, the window raised until the only thing I could see through the glass was my own reflection, just before the limo drove off, leaving me with an accelerated heart beat and some bruises on my ass from kicking myself for getting mixed in Jimmy’s scum wraps.  
 
I decided to skip work and head back to the loft for a pick-me-up with nothing more than my thoughts and a chilled bottle.  Why would Jimmy pawn his stash onto me knowing this deal was something more than I’d ever get involved with?  Jimmy’s many things, but careless is not one of them.  So now it’s time to think; think like Jimmy. 
 
After a few sips and a couple of zzz’s, I hit the pavement.  I had to get some scoop on the tobacco inhaling boss man.  I had to be prepared for anything.  Greed is blind and it doesn’t know when to stop.  It’s up to me to find order.  
 
Deonatello Ward
 
He’s one of the city’s top crime lords.  He owns most of the swankiest hangouts, stock in the local police department and every hustler on every corner this side of the oak tree. 

First rule of the game.  Know your enemy.  I think it’s about time to pay a visit to Miss ChiChi Ortegaopolis.  She’s my dig on the inside.  You’d be amazed at how much information you can learn about someone with nothing more than a nice smile, good interpersonal skills, a cigarette and a blackberry.  It’s time to even the playing field.  Mr Ward, let the games begin.  
 
The Informant’s Rules
 
Unironically, nearly moments after I shagged my set of eyes for a little 411 on my S.O.S, I noticed I was being tailed by the cops.  This time, unpaid parking tickets had nothing to do with anything.  This was a setup.  However things came to no surprise.  Nothing suprises me in the hills of Hottywood.  My snitch is just as elusive as Jimmy.  She’s dangerous, conniving and manipulative, but a real knock-out.  And beauty is one cold mistress.  One thing I’ve learned from this fox is that there are a few simple rules that behooves a guy to know if he must scrap with the big dogs:
 
1.  Expect to be deceived.
2.  Know how to read between the lines; and
3.  Always have a plan.
 
Like the steady breeze of the wind, I gave the feds the slip and made my way to the west side of town; where the other half lives.  Acres of land, gated properites, watch dogs and armed agents.  My kind of party
 
Face Your Fears
 
I came face to face with large Egyptian inspired engravings on a door fit for a castle.  “Mr. Ward’s got style,” I thought to myself, though I wasn’t surprised by the flashy taste money can buy.  I rang the doorbell, which chimed louder than a bell tower,  however to no warmed welcome.  In fact, to no welcome at all.  So I took it upon myself to invite me in. 
 
The guards that stood at all the entrances were a breeze to get passed.  I always say, “a few Taebo kicks and punches does just as much damage as it does good.” 
 
I patrolled the home, taking in its exquisite artwork, high ceilings and no sense of coziness, only to be distracted by an infuriated voice coming from behind a slightly shut door. 
 
“You idiots!” Mr. Ward shouted into his tightly gripped telephone receiver.  “What do you mean you let him get away? Find him and I mean right now!”  The force he put behind slamming the phone on the desk revealed all the signs of strings unraveling. 
 
“Mr. Ward, I presume.”  I stood confidently in the threshold of the acoustics-filled office. 
 
“Wha…What?  How did you get in here?  Guards!”  Frantic is the only way to describe the mood. 
 
“I wouldn’t bother disturbing the guards.  They’re all napping right now.  You see Mr. Ward, I don’t like being intimidated, followed or attacked.  That isn’t a proper way to play nice with other chaps, wouldn’t you say?”  The tone in my calm voice lit a fire under his rage.  He was like a bull seeing red, much to my delight.  There’s nothing more gratifying than having a high lead over your opponent. 
 
“Now you listen to me, you little prick!  You’re going to give me those diamonds even if it costs you your life.”  His rage was targeted and his eyes empty.  He stood tall, his shadow draping the wall. 
 
“Diamonds, Mr. Ward?  You mean the diamonds that you stole from Louigi Vasquez and his boys during a certain high stakes game of poker?   You see, I know a little more about you than you think.  However where you got the goods and from whom, I’d say, are the least of your problems.  I think you should be more concerned with that entourage of very pissed off gentlemen surrounding your home with big shiny guns and baseball bats, who I bet are just itching to take back what you stole from them.  The most interesting part of the equation is that all of your guard dogs are asleep and you’re unprotected — without your precious diamonds, I might add.  You’d better think quick, old man.  You haven’t much time.” 
 
When the first round of bullets crashed through the glass of the office window, I knew it was my time to escape.  My plan was merely set in motion.  It wasn’t quite over yet. 
 
The Get-Away
 
Three days later I woke up early to meet Jimmy at the Banaba Boat for another 80 proof cocktail.  He brought with him a most entertaining front page newspaper article whose title read: FRONT RUNNER CRIME LORD FATALLY SHOT IN HOME; NO SURVIVORS/NO SUSPECTS. 

Although we laughed at the fact of Mr. Deonatello Ward finally getting a taste of his own medicine, no doubt jeopordizing the lives of his knights of the roundtable, we found more humor, as well as solace in knowing Louigi Vasquez and his gang will never find out what happened to the ice. 

Jimmy actually came through in the end.  He always said that I was the smartest, most capable person he knew, and that he could trust me with anything.  Even his life. 
 
The End
 
In the end, I learned that even though our friendship had its rough moments, the 50% split Jimmy offered me for the diamonds more than made up for the heat.  $75 million never looked so good.  I guess sometimes it pays off to hang with the wrong people for the right reasons.  And thus ladies and gentlemen, concludes a day in the life in the hills of Hottywood.  


 

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of January 24-30, 2010

So this week, your underwear have less holes in them and you may be asked out on a date to end your dry spell.  However, you won’t know for sure until you’ve had your fortune told by the one and only Hottywood! 

Below are Hottywood’s cookie fortunes, as revealed by the moon and the sun, in addition to the itch on the bottom of his foot.   

Take heed.  Knowledge is power.

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19 

If crap was money, you’d be rich! You’re going to be full of two things this week: Sh*t and drama.  It’s time to suit up, champ…it’s going to be a tough week. 

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

You’re going to have Athlete’s Foot in your left armpit.  The worst part is you’re going to spend the rest of the week trying to figure out how the hell this is possible. 

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20   

Your farts will take on a personality of their own, much like Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde. 

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Aries

March 21 – April 19 

All of your breakfasts will taste like strained corn chips.  Try washing your mouth out with soap or brushing your teeth for a change.   

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20 

You have something special to smile about; your deodorant hasn’t given out on you – yet.  Things are looking up.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20 

The only answer you can muster up to anyone’s question is, “Because I said so, biatch.” Watch your back. Someone’s going to whoop your ass.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22 

A blessing is headed your way in the shape of an onion loaf or possum poop. It’s going to be a good week, though a little funky.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22 

Looking at yourself in the mirror will make you realize just how allergic you are to stupid ass people.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22 

It’s time to take on the personality of someone else because no one likes who you really are right now. Either stop or start being an asshole. 

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Libra

September 23 – October 22 

If anyone asks you what that thing is on your lip, just tell them you were stung by a mutant bumble bee. Your secret’s safe with me. o_~

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21 

I would only order shrimp when eating out, if I were you.  Any other kind of meat may not be exactly what you expect it to be.  However, the food poisoning could equal some days out of work.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21   

Life would be so different if you’d have only made the right decision when you had the chance. 

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Quote of the Week:   “The worst time to have a heart attack is during a game of charades…”